5th July 2013 Friday
Day 186
Now that I think about it, I should've made Habi the footstool or something; meh, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe I'll just make the stool one of the archive bots or something.
Disclaimer: I don't own the fairy tale, but that would be pretty awesome.
George Mayweather, with his horse Habi, travel for many miles, looking for anything that he can claim discovery on. Over glowing hills and crossing petite cobble stone bridges, the fearless adventurer starts to become a little weary when he and his companion enter a cold forest.
"We should have found something by now," he questions in the darkness, ignoring his horse's protests of turning back. "Maybe we missed a turn. I guess I should have taken a...wait a minute."
George holds up his lantern in an attempt to see the sign ahead of him. Frustrated, he unravels a map to read, but is pulled by Habi.
"Let's go this way!" George debates, pulling on the reigns towards the opposite direction. Habi flicks his head towards his master's desired path; a dark, misty track, and then towards his own path, golden and inviting. The horse takes a few steps towards the nicer looking path, but is stopped once again.
"Come on, Habi! It's a shortcut," he successfully manages to pull the horse on to the dark path, both of them proceeding with caution. "We'll find something in no time!"
Habi watches up ahead, his fear growing as he passes dead trees with one or two dark red leaves growing at the tips. "This can't be right. Where have you taken us, Habi?" a growling sound is head in the distance, causing Habi to rear and stumble backwards down the path. "We'd better turn around...and...whoa...whoa boy, whoa Habi. Oh, oh! Look out!"
Determined to escape the noise, Habi continues to walk backwards, knocking their cart against the trunk of a tree. A swarm of bats fly out of the tree hole. Habi races forward in fright, hardly watching where he is going when all too suddenly, they reach a cliff.
"Back up! Back up!" George says in a comforting tone as Habi's feet slip back on to solid ground, a few loose rocks falling far down. "Back up! Good boy, good boy. That's good, that's-back up!
Another unsettling noise is heard, and Habi has had enough. "Steady. Steady! Hey now. Steady," George tries to comfort the horse, but Habi rears and kicks, knocking the adventurer and his lantern off his back.
"Habi!" he calls, cowering under his cape as the lantern beside him fully extinguishes. "Habi? Oh no!"
Jenny's father looks towards the source of the noise, spying a pack of wolves with glowing, hungry eyes. With a stifled scream, he picks up his hat and dashes back down the trail, the animals hot on his heels. Unable to see where he is going, George stumbles through trees and bushes, falling down a hill which lands him in front of a set of iron gates. With haste, he grasps the cold poles and shakes them violently.
"Help! Is someone there?" he screams desperately as the animals close in. The gates squeak open, and George runs in, slamming them behind. Collapsing to the ground, one wolf manages to grasp George's foot, but he is quick to shake it off. His hat forgotten on the ground, the adventurer gazes at the home he has just trespassed in, his jaw widening as his face looks upwards, scanning every steeple and tower. A few drops of rain are felt on his head, making his decision to run towards the castle and ask for some shelter from the weather.
"Hello?" he questions in the darkness, closing the creaky wooden door behind him. Inside is just as dark, adorned with red carpet and concrete gargoyles. He swallows uncomfortably. "Hello?"
A whisper is just barely heard, but George could just make out; 'Old guy must have lost his way in the woods.'
A response to the whisper travels in the echoing halls, the voice nasally and loud as though by accident. 'Keep quiet! Maybe he'll go away.'
"Is someone there?" the cold explorer questions, rubbing his arms to keep warm.
'Don't say anything, Dex. Not one word!' the nasal voice echoes again, as though through gritted teeth.
"I don't mean to intrude, but I've lost my horse and I need a place to stay for the night," George pleads to no one in particular.
A table near the door stands alone, a clock and candelabra rested upon it. The candlestick turns to the little clock, his bottom lip dropping in sympathy. "Oh Tung, have some courage."
"Shush shush shhhhh!" the clock hushes him, placing his handle over the candlestick's mouth. Unphased, the candelabra waves one of his lit candle hands on to the clock's hand and burns it.
"Ow ow Ow OW OW OUCH!" he cries, catching the attention of George. The candlestick, one of the whispering voices who was identified as Dex, places his candle hands together and bows slightly.
"Of course, mate, you are welcome here," he greets their guest, but George cannot see who is addressing him. He picks up the candle and looks around.
"Who said that?" he questions, looking down the corridor. Dex reaches out and taps George on the shoulder.
"Over here!" he smiles, but the stranger simply turns around again, not realising that the person speaking to him is in his grasp.
"Where?"
Dex taps him on the head this time, causing George to look up in shock at the moving and talking object.
"G'day!"
"Oh!" he stumbles back, startled. Dex rolls on to the floor. Immediately, his adventurer personality kicks in as he admires the candlestick. "Incredible!"
The voice recognised as Tung hops over in a clunky, wooden form. "Well, now you've done it, Dex," he screams in fear. "Great, just awesome!" he is caught off-guard, however, as George picks up the little table clock, his eyes looking it over.
"How is this accomplished?" he ponders aloud, poking at Tung, ignoring his protests of 'put me down at once'. His finger tickles one of the clock's stands, which is found to be Tung's foot. He laughs loudly; his voice echoing about the room. George continues to poke and prod Tung, winding the spring on the back of his head, causing him to scrunch up his face as the hands move around. The adventurer turns him around and opens him up, gently tapping on his pendulum. Tung slams it closed immediately, accidentally closing it on George's finger.
"Dude, close that at once, seriously," he says in a pompous, yet adolescent style of voice. George looks taken aback.
"I beg your pardon," he apologises, his nose twitching slightly. "It's just that I've never seen a clock that...ah...I mean...ah ah ah-chooo!" he sneezes loudly, covering Tung's clock face in a light mist. The clock wipes it off quickly with his clock hands as though they are windshield wipers. George sniffles again, and Dex immediately catches on that their guest is cold.
"Struth, you're soaked to the bone, mate," he comforts in an accent unknown to George. "Come, warm yourself by the fire," the candle ushers the older gentleman down a nearby corridor.
"Thank you," he says kindly, following Dex in to a warm den. Tung stumbles behind them, muttering unsurely about the situation.
"No, no, no, do you know what Zap would do if he finds you here?" Tung questions, unaware of a shadow that is creeping about an overhead walkway.
"I highly insist that you stop...right...there!" Tung stumbles down the stairs, but quickly springs up, watching as George takes a seat in a large chair in front of a roaring fire.
"Oh no, not Zap's chair!" he whimpers in a worried tone. A small rectangular object rushes past him, barking loudly as it approaches the guest. Tung places his hands over his eyes, shaking his head violently. "I'm not seeing this, I'm not seeing this!"
The red velvet footstool jumps up the stranger, continuing to bark like a dog. George reaches out his hand, greeting the stool "Well, hello there, boy," he grins while scratching its suede hide. The footrest moves under the man's feet, standing perfectly still to resemble an actual footstool. A coat rack from nearby enters and removes George's cloak, draping a nice warm blanket around his shoulders.
"What service!" George can't help but voice his opinion as he snuggles under the blanket. Everyone is too busy trying to make the stranger feel at home, that they completely ignore the shrill, nasally voice of Tung.
"Ok dude, this has gone far enough. I'm warning you now that-" he is silenced as a tea tray pushes over him, racing to the guest's side.
"How would you like a nice cup of tea, sir? It'll warm you up in no time," the teapot smiles warmly at him before pouring the hot liquid out of her nose spout and in to a tiny, chipped glass. Once full, the glass bounds off the tray and in to George's open hand while everyone still ignores Tung's pleas of 'no, no tea, no tea', from down on the carpet.
George brings the cup to his lips, hardly realising when the tiny teacup shifts and begins to giggle.
"Ha ha! His moustache tickles, mom!" he smiles brightly down to his teapot mother. The guest pulls the cup away in mild shock, staring at the teacup with a smile.
"Oh, hello!" he greets politely, placing him back down on the tray. The door to the den slams suddenly, frightening everyone in the room. The candlestick's flames blow out as well as the fireplace, and an eerie darkness fills the room. From the floor, Tung cowers under the carpet edge, while the teapot shakes in fear, keeping her child hidden behind her.
"Uh oh," the cup stammers, shaking from his hiding place.
From the shadows, a huge beast emerges towards the people. He is large with a green head, purple claws and giant fangs protruding upwards from his lower jaw. He scurries along the floor on insect legs, looking around in the darkness.
He speaks in a low growl. "There's a stranger here."
Dex takes his opportunity to calmly describe the situation. "Zap, allow me to explain. The gentleman was lost in the woods and he was cold and wet..." before he can continue to speak, another growl, louder than before, bellows in his direction, extinguishing Dex's relit flames once again.
Tung emerges from under the carpet, clearing his throat to catch the creature's attention. "Dude, I'd like to take this moment to say...I was against this from the start," he said quickly, trying to protect himself from the dangerous situation he could see them all in. "I tried to stop them, but would they listen to me? No, no, no!"
From his seat, George cowers out of view of the creature that had just entered. Another loud growl was heard, and the adventurer checks the side of his chair to see if he can spot a glimpse of the creature, He sees nothing, but upon returning to his seat, the horrifying beast is snarling at him; face edging dangerously close.
"Who are you!" he says in a roar loud enough to push George out of his chair. "What are you doing here?"
The intruder continues to crawl backwards, away from the advancing beast. His voice cracks and stammers under fear. "I was lost in the woods and..."
"You are not welcome here!"
"I'm sorry," he apologises immediately, but is entranced in the huge insect's shimmering blue eyes, an act that the monster recognises.
"What are you staring at?" he roars, moving closer.
George cowers even more, his reply a mere stammer under his hiding place of his arms. "Noth-noth-nothing!" he spies an exit, and pulling himself to his feet, decides to make a run for it. The monster makes a quick move to the door, blocking the exit.
"So, you've come to stare at the beast, have you?" he questions rhetorically, his voice gruff.
With a hint of courage, George pulls himself to his knees. "Please, I meant no harm! I just need a place to stay," he begs, holding his hands up in prayer.
"I'll give you a place to stay!" he screams. In one swift motion, the creature snaps his claws forward, catching George in his grasp. His shadow, carrying his prisoner, disappears as he moves out of the room. The door is slammed shut, plunging the den and everyone inside, into darkness.
Done for today, and a pretty big chapter I must say. R&R!