Surprise! Bet you'd thought you'd seen the last of me, eh? Ha, not a chance.
No actual writing-based issues this time, just blame it on the big fat schedule interference known as "Becoming a College Freshman". Thanks for your patience!

I stayed cooped up in that grubby little shack for so long that, if I wanted to, I could probably describe every single chewed-up oversized cat toy I saw sitting inside it right now and only miss about three. I won't do that, though, that'd probably be boring. Other than that, the only noteworthy thing about it was the way it smelled: horrible, like an unholy combination of pet dander and a litter box that had never been cleaned.

There were two big reasons why I stayed in the shed so long, the first being the fact that I felt tired. Not just in my body, that's a given when you go toe-to-toe with an animal five times your size, but my in brain. I know that sounds weird, but there's really no other way to describe it; my mind felt like it was physically worn out. Except my mind isn't technically physical, so...

Okay, to explain this better, let's compare thinking to something you do with your body, like...lays say lifting weights. Imagine that normal thoughts, like the ones that are going through your head as you read this, would be weights that are maybe a pound or two. Not a problem, right? You could literally do this all day.

"Harder" thoughts, like when something's on the tip of your tongue and you're popping an artery trying to remember it, those would be a bit tougher. Think ten, maybe twenty pound weights at the very most. Bit heavier, but still manageable enough. With that in perspective, imagine the things I had to do with my head - conjuring shields, popping from place to place, and healing injuries - being like benching a hundred and ten.

Now, I'm guessing you've never pulled any psychological stunts like that before (and if you have, I'd highly suggest contacting either me or my family), but that should give you an idea of what I mean when I say my brain was exhausted.

Anyway, the other reason I stayed in there so long is a lot easier to explain: I was scared to death of that tiger. Sure, it wasn't clawing its way through the window or trying to tear down the door like I thought it would, but that only made me even more suspicious. With how strongly I must have smelled of blood by that point, I was convinced that the tiger must have known I was here and was just luring me into a false sense of security.

Eventually, though, I inevitably grew tired of waiting. Rational thinking finally reminded me that staying in there would do pretty much nothing to change my situation other than make the tiger more hungry. I was feeling a little better, comparatively speaking, and spending another minute in that stinky place would probably have made me sick.

Standing and stretching my stiff joints, I picked up my bat and got a good grip on it, just in case things got hairy. Then, taking a deep breath to brace myself, I kicked open the door and pulled back for an attack.

But there was nothing. Even after stepping out and looking around, the tiger was nowhere to be seen.

Keeping my guard up, I walked cautiously through the enclosure until I found the place where I dropped my backpack. To my amazement, it was not only still there, but it had kept all of its contents, and it didn't even look like it had been chewed on. Shouldering it, I pressed onwards.

By the time I got to the exhibit entrance, I had almost convinced myself I was in the clear. After opening the lock carefully, I got a grip on the handle and was just starting to pull it when... something stopped me.

I don't remember exactly what it was; a chill, a small noise, or maybe a hair standing on end, but in that moment, I knew I needed to turn around.

It was only a short sprint behind me, hiding amongst the foliage. If it had been following me the entire time, or if had just passed it now, I had no idea. Its eyes were fixed squarely on my face and, other than a subtle twitch in its tail, it was standing completely still.

I backed against the chain fence and clung desperately to my bat. Not now, I thought, not when I'm so close to getting out. I didn't have the strength to conjure another shield; standing on my own two feet felt like a struggle by that point. If he attacked, nothing short of a miracle would be able to save me.

But the tiger still didn't move. As I watched, I saw its eyes flicker over to my bat, and I could hear a low rumble coming from deep in its throat. Part of me wanted to open the gate and run for it, but that would mean turning my back to the tiger; even for a moment, that felt like too big a risk.

The two of us stood there for an agonizingly long time, not moving and breathing very quietly. I didn't break eye contact with the tiger once, and, after a while, it almost felt like it was able to read my thoughts.

Go away. Leave me alone.

The tiger made a small movement as if taken aback by my thought. My heartbeat suddenly picked up.

"Go away, " I repeated, out loud this time. "Leave me alone!"

My voice shook like crazy, but the tiger seemed to get the hint. After glancing at my bat again, it let out a small hiss and made a small movement backwards.

"Leave! " I said, my voice a little stronger. "I won the fight! I beat you!"

The tiger snarled angrily again, but took another step back. As I watched, it slowly turned around and, after one last contemptuous glance, quietly padded away.

After dazedly opening the gate, drifting through, and then sliding it shut behind me, I leaned back against it for a second. After a few moments taking in what had happened, I felt an enormous grin spread across my face. Finally, for the first time, I actually felt like the awesome planet-saving paragon that I was apparently meant to be. Not only did I just win a fight against an honest-to-God tiger, but I told it off when it thought it could catch me off guard.

A small fit of laughter suddenly burst from my lungs. Wait until everybody in class finds out about this!

Come and get me, alien menace! I thought triumphantly. Hit me with whatever you've got, I could take you with fingers glued together!

I got so caught up in my little celebration that I actually reached up to grab my hat - maybe to throw it into the air out something, I didn't really have much of a plan - then was surprised when I found there was no hat to be found. I paused for a second, confused as to why...

Right, I remembered. Monkey.

After refreshing myself with a water break, I resumed my search for the sticky-fingered simian with a renewed sense of vigor. With my inhibitions from before almost totally gone, finding the critter was actually surprisingly easy, especially since I now knew I could defend myself. After a quick stroll around the flamingo cage, I started closing in on one of the big office buildings that only the zoo employees had access to. By this building there was a truck, and on top of that truck, given away clearly by the bright red thing on its head, sat a familiar-looking animal.

The monkey must have planned for the tiger to eat me up, because when it finally turned around and saw me, I had to hold in a laugh at the dumbfounded look on its face. It made a dash to get away from me, but this time, I was ready for it. Throwing out a hand, I brought a shield up right in front of its face, making it collide headfirst and fall dazedly to the ground.

I made a dash to retrieve my hat, but the monkey recovered from the hit faster than I anticipated. It sprang to its feet with a shriek and nimbly avoided my grabbing fingers. Its path away from me blocked, it turned and began running wildly toward the building. I tackled it and tried snatching it around the middle, but it squirmed out of my grip like a furry catfish. By the time I got back on my feet, the monkey had already climbed up at least half the height of the office building, chattering its annoying little head off. In my head, this translated into an equally annoying stream of increasingly childish insults. That would have been frustrating enough in its own right, but it got worse when my conscience prevented me from doing my shield trick again; a fall from that high would have probably broken the monkey's neck, and as much as I hated the darn thing, I just couldn't bring myself to do something that sick. This meant that I could only stand there and yell as it scaled the last few stories and then disappeared from my sight, presumably to gawk at me from the top of the roof.

By that point, I'm sure most people would give up, and, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't having thoughts of something similar, sad to say. Yeah, that hat may have held a lot of sentimental value to me, but it was still just a hat, right...?

Catching myself, I shook the thought away before it could get any worse. Nearly getting eaten by a tiger must have made me a little nuts, since when did I start thinking practically about things like that?

Climbing the building was out of the question, so my only option for reaching the top of the building was going inside. Once in there, however, I was surprised to find a much bigger sense of dread than I felt when I was outside. Sure, there were hungry animals prowling around out there, but at least there was plenty of room to run if need be. The halls inside the building felt incredibly claustrophobic and eerie, especially since there still wasn't a soul to be seen. I kept getting the feeling that something nasty was going to sneak up behind me at any given second and snap my neck. At least twice, I remember swearing I could hear something following me, only to turn around with a jump and realize it was just echoed footsteps.

My nerves were so wracked by the time I got to the top floor that I almost wanted something bad to jump out at me just so the tension could break. I really wasn't sure what I was so scared of; there couldn't possibly be any rampaging animals in here aside from maybe a few rats, and that was the only thing in this zoo that posed a threat to me, right? Maybe I was just shaken from my encounter with the tiger... Man, I really needed to get a hold of myself.

After a little bit of exploring, I found myself in another long hallway containing two doors. The first one looked much like all the others that I had passed, except for a simple wooden plaque that read "Superintendent's Office". The second was a peeling maintenance door that simply read "Roof". For a moment, my spirits were boosted, and I made a brisk walk to the end of the hall. Another moment later, though, and I was suddenly frozen in my tracks.

There wasn't a single other living thing in the entire building; this, as far as I knew, was true. For as paranoid as I had been, and for as many times I could have sworn I heard something following me, some part of me deep down knew that I was completely alone. So I knew for a fact, then, if I were I to retrace my steps and open the door to the door marked "Superintendent's Office", I knew that I would find a room just as empty and uninteresting as every other room in the building.

So why was I so tempted to do it? More importantly, why was I also so scared?

I felt it had to have been my paranoia, but the longer I stalled there, the more convinced I became that I could hear something coming from inside the room. It was so tremendously faint that it could easily be written off as my own imagination, or maybe just white noise coming from the building itself. But the more I listened, holding my breath so as to make no noise, the less certain I became that either of these were true...

I took a step back, paused, then turned to look at the door. It looked completely ordinary, and stood completely silent. That feather-soft sound was just my imagination.

No it isn't, I told myself. Go check it out.

That'd be insane, I thought back. I didn't come up here just to put myself in danger myself again. I just barely got away from that tiger, and who knows what else I'll run into on this trip.

I thought you said there was nothing there?

There isn't! There isn't and I'll prove it!

I felt so strained for a second there that I almost spoke my thoughts aloud.

God, I thought as I crossed the space between me and the office door, maybe I am going crazy...

Feeling an awkward mix of frustration, foolishness, and terror, I put my hand on the handle, paused, then pushed open the door with a soft squeak.

Before me stood a room, very much like every other one in the building, except for it being quite a bit larger. There was a lonely looking desk, topped with papers, pens, and a slightly wilted potted violet. There was a dusty carpet on the floor, a few chairs, and a single window through which the late afternoon sun was sifting through. Nothing at all worth taking note of.

See, I told myself. I told you there was nothing.

I turned to go, feeling dumb and paranoid for wasting my time like this.

...

Look again.

I looked.

Maybe I had been trying so hard to convince myself that nothing was there that my eyes chose to ignore it when they briefly swept through the place, or maybe it was so out of place and bizarre that my brain didn't register its presence. Either way, that last double take was enough. A few feet in front of me, hovering maybe three inches above my eye level was... a thing.

I wish I could describe it better, especially since it took me so long to find it, but there really isn't much to describe, and what little there is to describe can't really be put into words. I mean, I could tell it was about the size and shape of a watermelon, but I can't tell you what color it was, since it was really difficult for me to look straight at without hurting my eyes. Think looking directly at the sun, but without it actually giving off any light. As to how the thing was keeping itself suspended in the air, well, your guess is as good as mine.

After staring into the room for a number of seconds, I was surprised to find myself slowly approaching the object. I guess that wasn't very smart but, hey, when else am I gonna get a chance to do that? I cautiously stepped within an arm's reach of the thing, brought up a hand for a moment, then, reconsidering, reached behind me for my bat. (Give me some credit, I at least had the sense to do that.) It was an inch away from making contact before, with a strange, electronic sound, the strange thing broke into two even pieces.

This sudden movement surprised me enough to pull the bat back, but I still couldn't get myself to stop watching. Almost immediately, a thin silvery thread began to ooze out of the opening, like the insides of an egg dripping into a pan. The ooze began accumulating into a small pool on the floor and then, to my horror, began moving. At first, all it did was squirm a little, like some sort of giant gray amoeba, but it quickly erupted into something huge and agitated. It began as just another formless, silver mass, but very quickly it began morphing into a vaguely humanoid shape. The bottom half of the form suddenly divided, forming two thick pillars that were struggling to form into legs. Two long tendrils sprouted from each side, slimming down as they went to give the vague idea of arms and shoulders. By the time it began growing a head, it was already taller than I was, and it was still getting bigger by the second. I finally regained feeling in my legs and bolted when it started trying to grow a face.

All things considered, it was a good thing that I didn't hightail it out of the zoo right then and there like I wanted to, but going back to that moment, I'm very surprised that isn't what I did. I remember feeling noticeably similar to how I did when my lamp tried to kill me: a combination of shock, fear, and a horribly numbing sense of confusion. But at least the lamp had some remote semblance of reality to it; even though it was attacking me, it still looked like a run of the mill lamp. The thing I had just witnessed was… well, alien, in the truest sense of the word. If I wasn't convinced I would be fighting extraterrestrials before, then I certainly was by then.

After collapsing against a wall and pressing myself against it, I gripped my bat very tightly to myself and tried to hold my breath. My mind was a complete mess; trying to form one cohesive thought seemed impossible. My instincts told me to get out, to leave there as fast as possible and never set foot in the building again, but something was keeping me glued to the spot. My hands felt shaky and sweat was prickling on my skin.

I tried as hard as I could to listen for noises in the room behind me, waiting for the sounds of… whatever that thing was to finally reach my ears. With every passing second, I was sure I would pick up something…

A full minute passed. Nothing happened. The room behind me remained quiet and the thing inside it did not seem to move. I was beginning to feel trapped by my own anxiety; I couldn't stay here, there's no telling what that thing was or what it would do if it caught me. But I couldn't move either; if I did, then I just knew the thing would start chasing me...

The wall beside me exploded.

It happened so fast that it seemed like nothing happened in the time between me sitting there quietly and my head abruptly colliding with the floor. A massive sound suddenly split the air, clouding it with a fine dust of plaster. Pain suddenly shot through my head, but my body temporarily ignored it. I was crawling, almost completely automatically, bat still in hand, through the hallway. My mind barely registered a single thought before I made it to a corner and scrambled behind it. And behind me, I finally could hear something; heavy, thundering footsteps, like a person who weighed half a ton was walking down the hall. The thing must have developed proper legs.

Oh God this isn't happening oh God oh God

I got up and began to run. I needed to find some way downstairs, somewhere where I could get out of there, but my sense of direction was completely gone. Every cell in my brain was centered on getting as much distance between me and that thing as I possibly could. I had to protect my existence, and protect it for as long as possible. I couldn't think of anything else but keeping myself-

DUCK DOWN

The words were blown into my head without any warning. For a brief moment, I lost control of myself and the words filled my mind, blocking out every other thought connected to writers. Along with these was a single image: myself, exactly where I was standing in that moment, being shot in the back of the head.

I ducked.

A white-blue beam, thin and deadly precise, immediately flashed over my head, missing me by a margin too thin for me to think about. My hair stood on end and a strange hum filled the air - a bolt of electricity had just jumped from somewhere behind me to a ceiling down the hall from me. There was another explosion, quieter and slightly less powerful than the first, and I stopped dead in my tracks.

The hallway in front of me collapsed almost immediately, sending crumbling chunks of plaster raining to the floor. I could only watch in horror as my exit was buried beneath a mountain of wood and rubble. I stood there for a moment, indecisive of what to do next, until I realized with a jolt that something was standing right behind me, casting a shadow in the dimmed light. With nowhere else to go, I turned to look.

For some reason, "Starman" was the first word that entered my mind. I don't know why this was exactly, but I've referred to them as nothing else since. It resembled, in a vague, abstract sort of way, a man, with four limbs and a head connecting to a broad, blocky torso. Its arms and legs looked very thin on its body, with round, flat feet like a Lunar module and no visible hands; the arms simply ended in points, making them more closely resemble octopus tentacles than anything else. It had no neck, just a hump of a head growing from its bulky shoulders, and no sign of a face: just a square, black space where its face should have been. It made me feel like I was looking into the mask of an astronaut, except looking at an astronaut wouldn't have made me feel so much like a cornered animal.

I didn't even have time to react; the instant I turned around, the starman bought one of its arms out and struck me across the body, knocking all the wind clean out of me. I collided with the wall and stayed there for a second, dazed, before noticing another attack was heading right for my face. Thinking fast, I brought up a quick shield to defend myself, turning the would-be knockout into a simple dope slap. The starman must have been surprised by this move, because it spared me enough time to get back on my feet and strike back.

I was expecting the impact from my bat to feel something like hitting metal - after all, its skin looked like the same, silvery material that had leaked from the capsule in the other room - but it actually had a lot of give to it, sort of like hitting a plastic bag filled with jelly. It must not have appreciated being hit, because the starman immediately took another swing at me. I sidestepped the attack and made a dash to get around the thing's body. If I could make it to the other side of the hall and just never stop running, then maybe - a completely insane sort of maybe - I might be able to get away safely.

The starman wasn't in my line of sight anymore, all I could see ahead of me was a completely innocuous halfway. I ran for it, even though I felt exhausted from all the running I had done an hour ago - had it only been that long?

Now there's something I'd never thought I'd do: look back on nearly being mauled by a tiger like it was some sort of loss. But at least I understood what a tiger was and what exactly would happen if it had caught me. I couldn't say the same thing for the starman, and as they say, no fear compares to fear of the unknown.

I couldn't hear anything behind me, though that didn't really mean much since the sound of my heart pounding sounded louder than a chainsaw. I remember reaching the end of the hall and thinking, if I can make it through the door, I could make it outside...

My hand reached the handle and throttled it, shoving my way through as soon as it would give. Not stopping for a second, I flung myself down the next hallway. My lungs already felt like they were shrinking, but I didn't even think about slowing down. I reached up to wipe sweat off my face, taking my eyes away from where I was going for only a second...

When I looked back up I almost screamed. There it was; right in front of me. It had materialized out of thin air, with barely a second's worth of warning. I screeched to a halt and almost tumbled backwards, fumbling to try and turn around. I don't know why I even bothered; if the thing could teleport, I might as well pitch myself out a window. I looked on in defeat as the starman began to charge another bolt of electricity, one that I was sure was meant to finish me off. A huge blasting noise filled my ears and a massive white light filled my vision. I barely even had time to flinch, it hit me before I even realize it had.

Now, in your head, you're probably asking me: how on earth am I still here to tell to you all this if I apparently got struck by lightning and, therefore, burned to an undignified crisp? Well, it's a fair question, and answering it is going to take some comprehension skills on your part, so pay attention.

For starters, the lightning didn't go directly to where it was supposed to go; that is to say, my face. Instead, it flew off at a bit of an angle, as if something was pulling the electricity in another direction. When the lightning hit me, it all gathered into one concentrated part of my body, to a spot just above where my heart was. A shrill Clang! suddenly resounded through the air, like a hammer striking against a hollow piece of metal. For the briefest moment of time imaginable, I stood there stunned as the seemingly deadly bolt appeared to have disappeared entirely, although the air was still alive with static electricity. Then that moment was over, and the beam was suddenly shot through the air once again... only this time, it was headed away from me instead. It hadn't disappeared, it had just rebounded. The starman must have gotten the shock of its life, no pun intended, when its own death beam suddenly blew straight through its body. All of this happened in about... I'll say a full second.

I stood there for a while, feeling dumbfounded for what must have been the billionth time today. Why was the starman hunched over on the floor like it had just been punched in the gut? Why did it have electricity sparking from its body? And most importantly, why was I not dead? Some part of me was aware of what had happened, but it had happened so fast that I couldn't process it all at once.

My attention was drawn to a hot feeling just below my neck, the same place where the lightning strike had bounced off me. I brought my fingers up to it and found them touching a warm piece of metal, which smoked slightly at my touch. It was Pippi's special Franklin Badge, still hooked onto the clasp of my neckerchief. After everything that had happened, I'd completely forgotten all about it.

I looked on starman sputtered weakly in the middle of the hall. It tried to pick itself up from the floor, but all its strength seemed to have been sapped away. It eventually managed to get up on its elbows and turn its head toward me, but I had to imagine what sort of expression it'd be giving me. Pushing aside my surprise with great difficulty, I held up my bat and tried to the best of my ability to look intimidating. My ability must have been better than I thought, because just when I thought it was catching its second wind, the starman suddenly dissolved into thin air. Call it a hunch, but I think that spelled the end of the zoo animal's distress.

My hand slowly found its way up to the badge on my chest, which had quickly cooled down and was, as far as I could tell, completely undamaged by the lightning strike. It once again looked completely innocuous against the red fabric of my neckerchief. Wherever she had gotten it, and whether she knew about its power it or not, Pippi's weird little present had just saved my life. Still in shock from the weirdness I'd just witnessed, I managed to jot down a mental note to thank her when this whole ordeal was over, and then began to make my way out of the building.