Woods part 1

Glen hurried across the sidewalk, trying to avoid the other people walking by. They were going about their business, and he wanted them to keep it that way.

He was coming from the Auto Shop, where he worked daily. Though today was his day off, he had still stopped by. He needed to be there, even if he wasn’t working. A bird had flown in an open window and ran into one of the walls. He didn’t even know why the window was open, it was really pretty chilly outside. He wasted a moment wondering who would’ve opened it in this weather, but then was awakened by the sound of a car honking its horn as it drove past him, pulling him out of his daze.

Standing on the curb, he poked his head up, out of the crowd.

He sighed, running his hand through his poofy hair. He liked it that way. The way it stuck up in the air accentuated his pointy ears just enough to make him look dangerous. And that was the part he thought was cool.

Well, Glen thought. It might be best to head across the street. The building he was looking at was the quirkiest bookstore he’d ever seen: the moment you set foot in it, you were swallowed in the massive collections. Books spewed from every nook and cranny. But the place had an overall dark look to it, giving it a haunted feel. Only the really cool kids hung there. That and really creepy old dudes.

Instead of just standing there imagining walking into the store, he dashed across the street. A bell rang as he opened the door and walked in. The strange thing about it was how dark the place was -- it really was just one room, with shelves placed so that it’d feel more like walking down a winding corridor than across a room -- the large windows on the left wall spewed light but none of it made it to the books. Glen stepped forward, only a couple strides to the desk. As usual, no one was there. But there was a bell on the desk, which Glen bopped with his hand, and he stood there, waiting.

A cooing noise came from under his jacket. “Shh,” he said, patting the slight bulge. “Soon, you’ll be able to come out. But not yet. So be quiet, please. Or we’ll both be in big trouble.” A small peep, and then silence.

He knew it would be a few minutes until Basil  would arrive. Bookworms have a tendency to take their time. So Glen’s thoughts wandered.

He wondered if he could fix everything.

He remembered how he’d taken a walk yesterday morning, through the small woods on the edge of town. It was nice to walk through a place like that, pretend there were no deadlines. Live like time didn’t exist. But this walk was different.

He remembered the strange tracks, following them. He remembered someone in the woods he didn’t recognize, though he never saw their face -- yelling, then screaming. Screaming at him to leave the forest. But why? That had been his question. He remembered the yelling getting louder, him asking the person to relax -- but then what happened? Glen remembered darkness -- but not complete darkness. Incomplete darkness. For how long, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know if there was something that happened after it, either, or if that was it...

But after the darkness he remembered the sun setting. And the bird. The same bird that now hid in his jacket. After that he’d called his boss, told him he couldn’t make it to work the next day. He needed to sort some things out.

But he’d forgotten something at the Auto Shop, his first aide kit. And he needed it if he was going to fix his scratched body, along with the bird’s hurt wing. That was why it needed a place to stay -- but someone had left the stupid window open, and another bird had flown in, totally freaking out the hurt one and causing it to try to fly away, which just strained its injuries, and -- sigh. It was just all very stressful.

He didn’t know why exactly he felt that he had to keep it secret, or why he told himself and the bird they’d get in trouble if they were caught. Caught by whom? Who would be searching for them? The strange person?

All Glen knew was that he saw something he wasn’t supposed to and now he needed to talk it through with somebody. And that somebody just happened to be --

“Well, what a friggin’ surprise,” came a familiar voice, followed by footsteps, which were followed by a face emerging from around the corner. With a head that was kind of squarish and a body like a rectangle, small eyes and a face that seems to tell the truth, you’d think Basil would be the quiet, respectful type; but he was practically the opposite.

“Before we get any farther, I wanna remind you that--” started Glen, but he was interrupted by Basil.

“You don’t approve of me swearing. How many times have we gone over that lame conversation? Look, ‘friggin’’ isn’t even a swear word, technically, but for your sake, I’ll change the rules to be as strict as my freaking grandma. Seriously, for a dude as chill and goth-lookin’ as you, you’re pretty uptight about a lot of stuff. Can we just get on with why ya dragged me outta one of the best books in the world?”

“Well,” started Glen, “this might not be the absolute best place to be talking about this, but there’s really nowhere else to go...”

“You get arrested again?”

Glen frowned. “No, of course not. I’ve only ever been arrested once, Basil, and you know it was a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, a misunderstanding concerning a convenience store and some beer. Honestly, I don’t understand what’s up with you sometimes, you’re okay with stealing but not the f-bomb?”

“Shut up,” said Glen. “Look, I came here for some help. If you don’t wanna, you don’t have to. But at least let me tell the story first.”

“Who’s sayin’ you can’t tell the story? Just get started already! Geez!”

“Okay, fine, Mr, Impatient. It happened yesterday morning. Something so serious I only remember parts of it.”

“What is this about? Drugs? Debts owed? What’s so dangerous? You need me to talk to Nike again? ‘Cause I explicitly told her, I did, if she ever messed with -- “

“Just be quiet and lemme get started,” hissed Glen. “So I went --” But he was interrupted again, this time by the bird. It squawked loudly and flew out from under his jacket so suddenly that it seemed the bird had startled even itself, and it ran straight into the window to the left with a muffled thunk.

“Ow,” came a small, strange, voice.

Glen started sweating plenty. “Shhhh!” he hissed. “Be quiet!” He turned to explain the situation to Basil, who was obviously in shock.

“It... talks?” Basil said. “But what? How...?”

“I was getting to that part,” said Glen, crouching down to pick up the injured bird, “but no one would let me get that far.” The small, black creature hopped up Glen’s arm onto his shoulder.

“But,” said Basil, “it can talk.”

“You bet your ass I can,” sneered the bird.

“Hey,” Glen complained, “were you even listening to our conversation?”

“Not even in the slightest,” sniffed the bird. “I was too busy suffocating to death. I eventually got enough of it.”

“Fine,” said Glen. “Whatever. Can I get started with my story yet?”

“Yes,” said both the bird and Basil at the same time, in very bored tones. It didn’t feel very fitting, because for Glen the past day and a half had been very exciting, but for all Basil knew, this was just another shenanigan in the life of the troublemaker elf-man Glen. But it was different this time. He felt it.

“Wellll,” began Glen, for the third time, “it happened yesterday morning. I was taking a calming morning walk in the woods --” Glen was interrupted by a pfft from Basil -- “when all of a sudden I noticed something. Or really, someone. Someone new that I’d never seen before.” This got Basil’s attention. Glen really got around, socially. He knew everyone in town. It actually wasn’t very hard, because it was one of those towns that hardly ever got visitors. For him to not recognize someone meant that an unknown being had snuck into town without anyone noticing, which was quite a challenge, because there was only one road leading into town, one that ended in the center of the town, and the woods were on the farthest outskirts.

All of this information thought through within a fraction of a second, Glen continued with his story. “They were yelling about something, then noticed I was there, and directed their shouting at me. ‘Just walk away,’ they were saying. ‘Walk away and forget I was ever here.’ I asked them to calm down, because, you know, this was totally an un-chill situation, and they started screaming at me. ‘No, don’t take a picture.’ ‘Please just leave me alone.’ But you know, louder.”

Basil sat in the quiet for half a second before asking, “so what the hell happened next, man? You can’t leave off on such a cliffhanger.”

Glen scowled at the use of language, but answered the question anyway. “I don’t know, not really. It gets fuzzy after that. I do remember a lot of darkness. But it wasn’t complete darkness, not like I’d been swallowed by something. it was more like there was something behind it, trying to get in. Like I’d been covered in a veil and no one could find the edge to get me out. After that... I remember opening my eyes, and the sun was setting, and this bird--” he gestured to his shoulder -- “was lying on the ground next to me. It asked me to help it.

“But now,” he continued, “it occurs to me that I didn’t even ask you for your name.”

“Horatio,” replied the small bird, peering through its black, beady eyes.

“Well, then, Horatio,” said Glen, “Basil--“ he nodded at Basil -- “I think it’s time to figure this whole thing out.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Basil. “We’re going into the woods, of course. Where the possible murderer was last seen. Just wait for my shift to end, I’d gladly die with you.”

“Sweet,” said Glen. “See you in a few hours, then.”

“Yup,” replied Basil. “See you.

Glen turned and walked out of the store, wondering what would happen next. Would the strange person still be there? Would there be evidence they ever were? What were they planning?

Well, thought Glen. I guess we’ll see in a few hours.

This is a new story I've been working on! I've been taking my sweet time with this one, and I feel like the characters are better developed in this thing than The Super. Plus, the Super never really had a plot to begin with, and it just kind of wandered. Which sucked. So I'm trying out a new story with an actual plot idea this time, and we'll see how it goes. I like where it's going s far.

   ~Polar