The room was dark, but for the twinkling of fairy lights across the ceilings glowing with vibrant reds, yellows, blues and greens which splashed across every surface like a shining sheen of shimmering paint. An improvised bed made of a simple mattress atop a few pallets dominated the room, alongside the old-timey CRT screen which stood atop a desk at its foot, coupled with a video games console and a few videotape movies to pass the time away. It was a windowless room, walls covered in posters from grunge and rock bands such as Jane’s Addiction, No Doubt, Alice in Chains, Elena Houston - Rock Queen, L7 and even a Lady Gaga poster.
The room was not silent at all, however, as with blazing speed upon the keyboard of a personal computer, Emily Hyde crafted her college project blog together with an intense focus and determination. Apart from the striking guitar riffs pouring from the speaker beside her, the only music playing in that room was from the rapid stroke of each key she took as she rapidly added all of the research, evidence and explained some of the sources she used to begin informing her research on the local frog populations.
“I’m almost done,” she whispered to herself, eyes scanning over the bright and bubbly designs of her blog she had crafted since arriving home an hour earlier, “just need to start planning an in-the-field expedition..”
When it was all figured out, then would be the time to email Gary.
She swept her fringe away, peering at the time at the bottom corner of the computer screen. 18:04 P.M.
As far as she was concerned, she was lucky to have a personal computer all to herself. There wasn’t much she had which was not shared.
“Emi, time for somethin’ to eat!”
Footsteps approached her room, the door creaking open as a well built man entered into the room, sunlight flooding through the opening like a breached dam expelling water.
This man was Emily’s father, Earl. He looked around at the dark room.
“Sheesh.. Get one of your curtains open, girl. You’re like a cave goblin, all cooped up in here.”
Earl Hyde was getting old, this he’d admit. His hairline had regressed at such an aggressive rate over the last year, that he was almost totally bald. A ring of greying hair surrounded the top of his head like an amphitheatre of aging. His way of hiding this was by doing nothing about it, taking it in his stride. It wasn’t worth shaving off.
He smiled gently down at his daughter, his light brown eyes exuding a weariness beyond this world.
“I’m just finishing this last part, dad.” Emily replied, giving him a quick glance and a thumbs up.
With a simple click of the save button, all her work had been saved into the website, never to be lost. She pushed her chair out and rose to her feet whilst Earl continued leaning against the doorframe.
“You’ve always had your mother’s eyes, Emily..” He commented solemnly.
Emily stopped in her tracks, taking a full moment to comprehend the statement. An empty ache sprung in her heart, but she knew she couldn’t linger on that feeling.
“What’ve you cooked up for us?” She asked, at last, dispelling the silence.
“It’s just a pasta bolognese,” her father shrugged, “nothing special.”
“It’ll still be great!”
A bright hallway led between Emily’s room to the main area of the house, sunlight shining in through several old-fashioned window panes embedded into the walls of stacked logs to the left, a small draft flowing along the creaky wooden floor as the two pairs of footsteps clunked over it. The breeze kept chilling Emily’s ankles as she walked, providing a welcome contrast to the toasty air of the dawn of summer. And riding upon that breeze came drifting the tantalising scent of Italian style cooking.
The kitchen just beyond this hallway was small and simple, the ceramic floor tiles sprinkled with floral patterns across the ground; walls of bricks, cosy little windows ahead and to the left, with views out across a dozen miles of fields, forests all the way to the outskirts of the city; apartment blocks and towers a grey, blue and silver jungle of urban expanse prickling towards the horizon. Then there was all the standard kitchen setup - counters clinging to the walls, a little gas oven with a ceiling extractor no more advanced than a hole in the ceiling leading to the chimney stacks above. In the center of the room stood a very old table. So old that the layers of varnish over it had almost become more part of the table than the wood ever was. Around this table were placed three chairs. And before each chair lay a sparkling clean, empty plate.
On top of a creased table cloth across this table was a large deep-dish pan full of steaming pasta and bolognese, and a pot of shredded cheese beside it.
The both of them took seats opposite each other on the table, with the empty chair to Emily’s left.
“Dinner’s looking good today!” Emily said, a compliment to her dad’s cooking in an attempt to lighten the mood whilst he slowly dished out the pasta to each of their plates with a big spoon - leaving the third plate empty.
“So it’s like you’re saying dinner looks not good on other days..?” Earl replied, glancing over to the empty seat momentarily.
‘She would’ve laughed..’ He thought to himself as he saw his joke had only elicited a snort of humor from his daughter.
“Hey dad, you okay?” Emily asked, sprinkling a handful of shredded cheese over her plate whilst eyeing her dad with concern from behind her hanging fringe.
This question pulled Earl from his brain-fog, he shook his head vigorously as the world came back into focus.
“Uhh, yeah,” he blinked a few times, “I’ll be fine, just focus on your food.”
"Hm.. Okay, dad.” Emily replied, picking at the pasta with uncertainty.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
In the distance, just above the skyscrapers of Menagerie City; dark, lingering clouds had begun to gather. A chill wind rattled the windowpanes in their frames, then vanished..
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INTRO THEME : “Spiderwebs” by No Doubt
EPISODE 2. LATE, LATE NIGHT
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“Arthur… It’s time to go home!” The woman’s voice called as it grew closer. The sunlight was so blinding, he could barely even see his surroundings let alone who it was who approached.
“There you are Arthur..!”
He felt a welcoming warmth spread through his chest.
“Now come on! Wake up!”
Arthur’s eyes snapped open. The first thing he could hear were the sounds of car horns blaring, engines grumbling and the sound of distant sirens from somewhere in the city. Then his eyes fluttered open, heavy and dazed as he took in the surroundings he had become all too familiar with..
He found himself sprawled across a crummy bench in Helix Park. A city park small enough that it could probably barely fit a house inside. The park was home to grass, wildflowers, a few trees here and there.. But one monument took center stage and that was a stone statue of a spire surrounded by a glass double-helix which reached into the grey skies above, where heavy clouds had begun to gather threateningly. This was the monument to which the park owed its name and the sculpture Helix Park was right in the city center. A place where plenty of towers and high-rises loomed over him like an army of manmade giants, feeding not just on the blood of all who became part of their way - but their very souls too.
This was a place where Arthur had found himself in the middle of countless dozens of times before. He was not wearing a coat, but he felt his apartment keys in his jean pocket, bringing a sense of relief to him.
One moment, he was in the alleyway, facing down those thugs who’d…
The horrific vision came flooding back - just one image of that dog who had been defenceless to protect its master, or even itself.. Arthur shrugged, rising painfully from where he had been dropped yet again like God’s plaything. It’s indeed how he felt.. One moment he might feel perfect, ready to face down the world with confidence. Then within an instant, it’s like the powers that be had whipped him up, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and chucked him onto this bench like a child casting aside a broken doll - or sure that’s exactly how it felt to Arthur.
However, one thing he had noticed was that all over his palms and wrists, splattered like paint, almost fresh blood covered them both. His eyes widened slightly as he looked down into his empty palms, beholding them in the amber lamplight splashed upon the world like a burning fire. He took the time to wipe his hands in the grass so that most of the blood was washed away by the dew on each blade.
One strange thing he did notice, however, as he looked up from the ground was the distinct sound of ribbiting emanating from somewhere nearby. He looked around in confusion, brushing his hair back before looking down at the trees all around. Arthur could notice small, dark shapes hopping around near the bases of the trees - in places the light couldn’t quite reach fully.
“What the hell are frogs doing in this part of the city?” He mumbled to himself, still groggy even as he slowly lumbered away from the scene. The first thing he noticed as he walked out into the city streets, was the shiver through his body as the cold wind whipped right through him, his stomach rumbling loudly, echoing about his very self.
He did not need a map, nor any kind of navigation. The way home was chiseled into his brain a thousand times over already.
As he journeyed forth, he found the city streets.. Emptier than usual.
Droplets of rain began to cascade from the destitute heights far above.
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It was getting late. And it was getting dark. In fact, Emily Hyde had already changed into a bear themed onesie as it began raining heavily. Each drop of water released from the heavens hitting the rooftop above her room like the rolling beat of drums. It was almost deafening, let alone not sleepable.
However, determined to have a good night, she decided to take some drastic measures.
It was half eight at night, twenty minutes after Earl had gone to bed. Emily could hear her father’s distinct snore drifting down the darkened hallway as she snuck out from her room - shutting the door behind herself gently with one hand whilst in her other she clutched a pillow to her side.
Even though the shutters were closed tight, the fresh sound of the rain falling on the grass outside was still as raw as if she was standing out in it, the small gaps in the shuttered windows allowing the earthy smell of fresh rain to tickle Emily’s brain as she shambled slowly down the long hallway, anxious to not make a single noise as she entered the kitchen, passing her father’s open bedroom door, where she noticed his dark form splayed across his double bed, mouth wide open as loud snores emanated from him.
But now wasn’t the time to watch her father snoozed out, Emily had already decided she’d be spending the night on the sofa since her own room had unfortunately been turned into a boombox of nightmares and insomnia.
Eventually, after some creeping around somewhat clumsily in the dark, she made her way into the lounge. A sofa stood across the room, shrouded in shadows, a heavy blanket cloaked the now carefully opened door, which she took for her own upon entering the room.
Starting to feel too drowsy for any kind of thoughts, she had already thrown the pillow and the blanket upon the sofa, flopping down upon it, sprawled out in complete and utter exhaustion.
The soft pitter-patter of the rain outside soothed her, the gentle breeze wafting over her face relaxed her, but the sound of croaking from just outside began to perplex her. All before the depths of sleep took her from the land of the awake for the final time that night, of course. Little was Emily to know that one of the shutters had been left open.. Open enough to allow for a draught, or enough to let a particular frog enter into the room.. A frog who was now stood in the window frame, staring down at the human girl it saw before itself.
‘A perfect candidate..’ It thought to itself.
You see, this wasn’t just any ordinary frog. Though its mottled skin may be green and its throat may swell and deflate upon each ribbit! uttered, however, its thoughts were entirely human and completely unfroglike. Its feelings, human. Its intelligence, greater than your average human at the very least. A true freak of nature in every sense of the phrase.
‘Ribbit. The time has arrived to take one hop forwards in my great divine scheme!’ It thought to itself in fanatic fervour as it leapt down to the floor and scurried away into the darkness..
To be continued…
END THEME : Ludwig Van Beethoven - Moonlight Sonata, 1st Movement
