Hello once again, my fellow readers! I'm sorry I haven't been updating as of late because I'm stuck with a case of the block. Rest assured, I'm still continuing my other stories, but this is a brand new idea I've decided to work on while I'm stuck.

This story brings forth a brand new original chipmunk of my own: Phelan. Originally, I had suggested him to be a part of Periosha's The Final Stand. While he didn't exactly make the cut, I thought, "Hey, he sounds interesting enough, it'll be a waste if I didn't use him as my own." Plus, I found it comfortable to be writing along the supernatural angle.

My next thought was: "Maybe this should be a Halloween special", but I'm anxious that I might lose that spark if I delay it for too long.

So without further ado, I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as I had fun writing it!

Chapter 1: Peril Descends

The tranquillity of the forest was shaken by the sound of rustling leaves. Seconds later, a chipmunk burst from the clearing and ran on all fours, as fast as his paws could carry him. He let the wind lift his paws off the ground with every stride, the tails of his black trench coat flapping against the breeze.

There was fear written in those green eyes of his, but he would not show it. All that mattered now was to get somewhere safe, and fast. He couldn't dare to turn his back for the slightest moment.

For he could feel that thing's presence; breathing hot on his heels.

While the full moon tonight illuminated the way in front of the chipmunk, he wasn't sure as to where to go. He'd never felt this lost before, but then again, there was never a time when he had felt safe and secure from the creature that threatened his existence.

He ran and ran until he was sure that whatever was stalking him had stopped its pursuit. As the black-clad chipmunk paused to catch his breath, a voice rang throughout the forest, icy and sinister, as though a snake had been given a voice it could taunt others with.

You can run, my little chipmunk, but you can't hide forever...

A bead of sweat trickled down his brown-mahogany fur, but the chipmunk felt more anger than fear as he growled in frustration. Clenching his fists, he punched the nearest tree, not caring that his sheer strength brought the trunk crashing to the ground. He lifted his head to the empty moonlit sky and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"I'm not your slave anymore! So get the hell away from me and find someone else to do your bidding!"

Wrong answer, rodent...

Dark tendrils shot from underneath the ground. They were black and as long and thick as pythons, and they wrapped themselves tightly around the chipmunk, lifting him in mid-air as the life was slowly, but painstakingly squeezed out of him. Any creature caught in its grasp would have given in to its first instinct and struggle to escape, but the chipmunk knew better, as any signs of attempting to fight back would only tighten its coils, resulting in the bones and windpipe being crushed.

You see, he wasn't just any ordinary nut-gathering chipmunk.

He had the power of darkness on his side.

From his suspension above ground, the chipmunk could see the shadows of the trees all around him, and he blessed his lucky stars that the tendrils had not completely blocked his right paw from moving. Willing the powers of his conscience, he summoned the shadows into his paw until a dark, almost fiery-like blade extended from his arm. He hacked and slashed, and the tendrils withered away into nothingness as the chipmunk landed to the ground, free once more.

There was no time to waste. If the tendrils were able to catch up to him from afar, then the creature would gain on him any moment now. He picked up his speed and took off, just as a wave of darkness began to cloak the forest clearing, leaving whatever stood in its way into nothing but a pitch-black void.

As the chipmunk ran on, he came to a sudden realisation. The flurry of leaves had finally stopped hitting him in the face. The chipmunk breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he'd reached the edge of the forest. There was no way that foul creature would have the courage to strike out in the presence of light, manmade or not.

Ahead of him was a quiet and empty street, illuminated by a row of lamp-posts. There were these houses of similar shapes, as though they were all built by the same creator. For a chipmunk, it would have been ridiculous to go up to any of them and ask whoever lived in there to spare some food and shelter. But he wasn't going to give up so easily. One of the houses was probably still awake, as the only light it had was in one of the upper windows. He sighed as he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, what the heck."

Making sure that no one else was around; he blended deeply into the shadows of everything he could see until he reached the porch of the said house. There was a tree that grew proudly in the garden, and several of its branches grew close to the lit window. His natural instincts kicked in as he scampered up the tree with ease and sat on a branch that was able to support his weight.

Looking through the window, he couldn't believe what he saw. It was a bedroom, but in it were three chipmunks, just like him! Probably brothers, too. They were wearing what seemed to be pyjamas, but each had a distinctive colour. One was wearing a red cap to go along with his red PJs, another in glasses wore blue, and the third one, slightly round on the sides, was clad in a one-suit pair of green pyjamas.

A stab of envy crossed the chipmunk's mind as he watched the three brothers talk about something inaudible, but they looked lively and were willing to hear each other out. He sighed. Nobody had ever welcomed him as a friend before, and he couldn't remember when he had a real family.

There was no time to ponder on his memories as his ears perked up. Something was wrong.

The darkness had found him here.

More tendrils came for him out of nowhere, but he stood his ground as he summoned an orb of darkness in his paw and blasted those wretched creepers into ash.

But what he didn't know was those tendrils were nothing more than a distraction.

The real attack came straight for him in the form of a dark fireball.

It hit the chipmunk square in the chest.

He wanted to scream, but the pain was so unbearable, it seemed to have numbed his senses with a thousand hot needles piercing through his fur. He struggled to regain his balance, but the impact caused him to lose his footing as the branch snapped and he plummeted to the ground with a sickening crunch.

The noise would have been loud enough to wake up the whole neighbourhood.

As the chipmunk looked at his chest, he swore as he noticed a black bruise, followed by the horrible feeling of being burned alive. Fighting to stay awake, he stumbled to the front door and pounded frantically on its surface with whatever strength he had left.

What he didn't realise was that his choice of actions would change the course of his life forever...

"Alvin, for the last time, please go to sleep!" groaned Simon as he covered his face with his pillow.

The red-clad chipmunk sat on his bed and crossed his arms, scowling. "Simon, how can I possibly get any sleep? It's only thirty-one days left till Halloween, and do you know what that means?"

Theodore looked confused. "What's this about, Alvin?"

"He's obsessed with looking the scariest on Halloween night so that he can scare everybody on the streets; as well as getting the most candy," Simon explained dryly.

Theodore's answer was a simple "Oh," and he pulled his teddy closer. "I-I'm always s-s-s-scared of Halloween! There's g-g-goblins and ghosts and vampires and w-w-w-werewolves-"

"And let's not forget the candy!" reminded Alvin.

"Oh yeah, candy!" Theodore's fear was instantly replaced by the happiness he felt for food.

Simon opened his mouth, about to reassure Theo that it was pointless to be scared of a holiday when suddenly, there came a loud crash. All three of them jumped in shock and ran to the window.

"W-what was that?" asked Theodore, his eyes wide in fear.

Simon adjusted his glasses. "Sounds like it came from the backyard. But it's dark, I can't see anything."

"There! In the bushes!" yelled Alvin, pointing a finger. "Someone's watching us!"

They looked closely at Alvin's direction. True enough, there was a dark, shadowy figure on the ground, a fallen branch by its side.

"He must have tried to climb up the tree to get into our window!" gasped Simon. "Y-you don't think?"

"That he's a burglar! Yeah, he must want to sneak into our house!" shouted Alvin. "Well, I think we should give him a piece of our mind!"

"Boys, what's with all that racket? I thought I told you to go to sleep!"

Dave marched into the room, looking all bleary-eyed and deeply annoyed.

Theodore ran into Dave's arms. "There's a burglar outside our house! He tried to climb up our tree but he fell down!"

"A burglar? Boys, this is serious. I hope you're not making this up."

As if in reply, a series of loud, heavy knocks rattled on the door, sending cold shivers down the chipmunks' spines as they cowered behind Dave.

"It's the burglar, I tell you! Would we be making this up?" stammered Alvin, trying desperately to sound brave.

"Alright, we'll all go together and see who's at the door. If it's really a burglar, Alvin, you knock him out real hard, and I'll call the police," said Dave. He was starting to sound a little nervous.

"Me? Why do I have to do the hard stuff?" asked Alvin.

"Just shut up and do as you're told!" snapped Simon.

Alvin grabbed a baseball bat, Simon was holding a thick encyclopedia, and Theodore, well, there wasn't anything for him to grab a hold of, so he held tight onto his teddy.

They trudged quietly down the stairs, with Dave in the lead.

On the count of three, Dave reached forward and opened the door.

They gasped at the figure that stood wearily before them.

It was a chipmunk, clad in nothing but a long, black trench coat. He was about the same height as Alvin, which would have made him just the same age as the boys, if not younger.

His brown-mahogany fur, even darker than Simon's, was all tufted and pointy, giving him a feral appearance that he somehow looked more like a wolf than a chipmunk. There was life burning in those forest-green eyes, but they crackled with the flames of fear and dread, as well as the look that said so on his face.

He could hardly speak; his breaths coming in sharp, long gasps, but he managed three words:

"Please...help me..."

Then his knees gave way and his world turned black.

To Be Continued...

In case you missed it, that mysterious dark chipmunk is Phelan. What is he trying to escape from? And how will the Chipmunks be able to help him? Find out on the next chapter!

There's nothing more to make a writer happy than the fact that he is adknowledged for his work. So please, review and comment, okay? :)